


Muttering and Tapping

by DuskyGem



Category: Hetalia - Fandom, Hetalia: Axis Powers, Hetalia: World Series
Genre: Desk, Desk fucking, M/M, Oral Sex, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-11
Updated: 2020-03-11
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:55:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23101303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DuskyGem/pseuds/DuskyGem
Summary: Prussia gets fed up with Russia's muttering, tapping, and shuffling he can hear through the walls. He finally decides to confront Ivan over this.Ivan takes it as a chance for them both to get rid of frustration.
Relationships: Russia/Prussia, Russia/Prussia（Hetalia）
Comments: 3
Kudos: 42





	Muttering and Tapping

**Author's Note:**

  * For [prubun](https://archiveofourown.org/users/prubun/gifts).



Ivan tapped his finger against his desk. The soft click of leather gloved hands as he read listlessly over the same paragraph. This had to be the fifth time, he swore. Finally, it stuck, and he wrote a quick note in the margins.

Gilbert sat in the room next to Ivan’s office, hearing each tap with growing annoyance. He hated staying with Ivan, well. He hated the fact he couldn’t leave. He didn’t care much one way or the other who he stayed with. It was the fact he couldn’t leave, that his nation had been dissolved, and he was stuck. America was off doing god know what with his brother.

The Russian nation muttered something, only to hear the snap of something being slammed down onto a desk. Seems the non-nation was coming in to lecture him… again.

The albino slammed the door open, only to see Ivan looking at him with a calm smile, fingers laced together under his chin. Gilbert knew his face was flushed, but didn’t care as he walked forward, slamming his hands on the desk.

“I demand to be relocated.” The now ex-nation said, red eyes focused on Ivan. “I can’t _stand_ your constant muttering— your- your tapping and humming!” Ivan held up a hand, raising a brow when Gilbert only grabbed his hand and slammed it down. “Nein, you don’t get to tell me to be quiet. I get it. You won the war. I get it, I was in the wrong. _I get the concept_.” He growled. “But all I ask is to be able to do YOUR work in silence, I can’t focus otherwise!” Ivan stood, but Gilbert refused to stand down.

The next few seconds were a blur of motion. Ivan had wormed his hand out of Gilbert’s grip and reversed the roles. His gloved hand gripping that near white appendage and pulling him so he was practically bent over the desk. Before Gil could orient himself his head was slammed into the desk, a cry of surprise leaving him. He felt Ivan’s breath on his neck, shoving back a shudder.

“You seem to have forgotten who is in charge here, mal'chik.” He damn near whispered.

“Don’t call me boy! I’m older than you!” He stiffened as a chuckle came from the larger man. 

”Da, while you may be older than me, you are far weaker… Far more suited to do other things than try and demand things of me.” His voice dropped from that falsetto tone it typically held. He was suddenly pushed back as Ivan sat back down and moved away from the desk. Gilbert knew Ivan could snap him like a twig at this point…

“W… What are you implying, bastard?” Gilbert felt his face burn. He knew exactly what Ivan was implying. Because, well, how dare Gilbert stand up to his superior.

“Get under. Unless you want to get right to the point?” Gilbert shuddered, staying put for a moment before letting out a shuddering sigh of resignation. He walked over, crawling under the rather spacious desk. It wasn’t even five seconds before he was trapped between spread knees. He didn’t move for a while, before a heavy boot landed between his own legs, eyes going wide as a very undignified noise left him. He pushed the foot off and watched as Ivan’s legs spread again. Gilbert felt his face burning as he let out a hot breath at the seam of Ivan’s pants(which happened to be right in his face).

Ivan silently went back to his work, feeling Gilbert’s hands unbuckle and ease out his cock. He felt the Prussian waste no time as his eyes slid shut. Now there, there was a feeling that never got old. Gilbert assumed he was far more talented than he was. Gilbert had opened his jaw wide and gone right in, taking in barely half his length before he gagged a bit, pulling off. Ivan was quickly becoming erect.

Of course one hand went down to gently tangle in those snowy locks. He was shoved down a bit as Ivan tensed, dick twitching. Gilbert gagged but managed to subde the reflex. He heard Ivan speak, feeling panic start inside him. 

“Zdravstvuyte, Litva” Came the smooth tone. “Something you need?” 

“Uhm, I just wished to tell you that— That I did as you asked and moved some of your meetings back.” The brunet said softly, Gilbert knew his face was bright red as nearly all of Ivan’s cock was down his throat.

It wasn’t like he could pull off either, he knew he would cough and give himself away if that happened. So. He settled for trying to make *IVAN* the one to be caught. He moved his tongue around as he forced himself down further. Eventually Ivan’s balls touched his chin, tears from Gil’s gag reflex leaking out of his eyes as his pants felt painfully tight.

“Sir…?” Ivan looked up at Toris, hand knotted in Gilbert’s hair as his slightly flushed face looked up.

“Mh?”

“You look flushed, are you alright?”

“Da, da, fine. Now, I have work to do, run along.” The door closed and Ivan all but shoved himself back, Gilbert staying in place as he coughed, droll sliding down his chin and neck. Ivan huffed, looking down at him and unable to help the smile that crept onto his face. He stood up, Gilbert scrambling out from the desk.

Gilbert felt himself pushed till his back was against the desk. “You damn near got us caught, not to mention nearly killed me with your goddamn dick—” He was cut off with Ivan’s lips hitting his own. Hard. His eyes opened widely for a moment before slowly shutting, kissing back with defiance. 

“And from the looks of it, you loved every second of it.” Ivan crooned against Gilbert’s skin, a gloved hand going down to suddenly grab Gilbert’s groin. None too gently, he may add.Ivan heard a moan escape the lips of his little bunny. 

Gilbert pulled back, his lower back painfully pressed against the desk, his hand going down to his own belt to relieve some of the pressure that was there, only to find Ivan’s hand had beaten him to it. He let out a sharp sigh as pants and underwear were yanked down. Ivan slid his hands till they were behind Gilbert, removing the gloves, finally. Ivan had moved to kissing, biting, and marking the pale skin before him.

Gilbert slapped him slightly. “N-not so high up. The last thing I need is for people to know about all this—” He was cut off by something mumbled in Russian. He shut up, getting his message clear from the tone. He felt the position change, very fast. He was spun around and bent over the desk, backside now presented to the nation. Ivan shoved three fingers into Gilbert’s mouth, the ex-nation instantly starting to coat them in his spit.

“Mhhm, and you’re sure that you don’t want people to know about us?” He cooed, pulling his fingers out and roughly shoving one of the fingers inside. 

“Gott! Ugh— Fuck, do you have to be so—” He was cut off as another finger was pushed in without warning. He jumped, tensing and then relaxing. He could all but feel that smug smirk he _knew_ Ivan had on his stupid face.  
  
Ivan was taken slightly off guard when he heard something in German. He pushed his fingers in a bit deeper, raising a brow. “What was that?” He asked, sliding in the third finger with somewhat of a gentle pace. 

“Nothing— Just. Hurry up. The last thing I need is any of your fucking servants coming in.”

The fingers were suddenly pulled out as he heard Ivan spit on his fingers to at least somewhat lube himself up. “The baltics are not servants, simply workers.” He smirked, placing the tip to his ass. “Mh… you’re always so cute like this.”

“Fucking pervert— ” The albino took a shakey breath only to have it forced out of him. As soon as Ivan had the head in he pulled back and thrust back in. Each time getting a bit deeper and deeper.

Gilbert was pushed further against the desk, papers spilling off as the Prussian scrambled to find purchase on the smooth wood. It wasn’t long till Ivan bottomed out, tears pricking Gilbert’s eyes as he panted, grateful that Ivan had stilled, even if only momentarily.

“Gott— I fo-forgot how damn big—” Man, Ivan just loved to cut him off, huh?

“Shut.” He pulled his hips back “Up.” and with that he started at a fast, bruising pace. Gilbert did his best to stifle any noises that tried to escape him, the last thing he needed was one of the baltics barging in wanting to know if everything was alright. He felt one of Ivan’s hands go to his head, shoving his face down and then grabbing those white locks.

Ivan realized he hadn’t worn a condom and made a vague mental note not to cum inside, his ears filled with the music that was Gilbert’s muffled grunts and moans. Ivan shifted the angle of his hips and continued the pace.

Gilbert knew Ivan was in pleasure as well, he just always seemed to come undone first. He eventually grasped onto the edge of the desk, small noises leaving him with each thrust. He heard Ivan’s breathing finally turn heavy, leaning over him and pulling his hair in his grasp as the other hand held his hip in a bruising grip.

Incoherent mutters in Russian and German were exchanged and before long Ivan started to move to pull out. “Nein—” The soft word came from under him. He knew damn well Ivan didn’t wear a condom and he didn’t care at the moment. “In- inside.” He demanded, feeling him slam back in with a soft cry of pleasure.

Ivan let out an airy gasp of a moan as he slammed in, hips twitching as he came inside Gilbert. The albino finally came himself, having the common sense to cover that with his hand. He didn’t really feel like getting fucked that bad if he made a mess of Ivan’s desk.

They both stayed there, panting slightly. Ivan eventually spoke.

“If you would still like to be moved I think I can arrange to have you moved in here~”

“Fuck you.” Gilbert muttered, with only the response of a chuckle.

“Ya lyublyu to chto moye~” Ivan purred, Gilbert sighed again before muttering something, face still flushed.  
  
“Let’s go get cleaned up,”

“Assuming you can walk.”  
  
“ Fick dich Schlampe. ” Came the bit response, Gilbert looking back at a smiling Ivan. He moved the chair back a bit and pulled out, smirking as the other shuddered at the feeling.  
  
“I’ll take that as an admittance to the fact you are indeed mine.”

**Author's Note:**

> Just a one-shot. Might post more one shots here later!  
> TRANSLATIONS  
> mal'chik - Boy  
> Zdravstvuyte, Litva - Formal hello, Lithuania  
> Ya lyublyu to chto moye - I love what is mine  
> Fick dich Schlampe - Fuck you bitch


End file.
